


Inner Ego

by Daisy_PoisonPen



Series: Mine [2]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Scott Lang, Established Relationship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Posessive Peter Quill, Quill is a kind of a primal dom, Romance, Scott has a thing for getting chased, Submissive Scott Lang, Top Peter Quill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_PoisonPen/pseuds/Daisy_PoisonPen
Summary: Quill’s inner Ego could go die in a black hole.





	Inner Ego

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElisaPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisaPhoenix/gifts).

> so the reason i tagged this as mildly dubious consent isn’t because scott is getting forced or anything like that. it’s because Quill kinda pushes limits here and he’s worried about having hurt Scott. Still, if you’re sensitive about this kind of thing, please proceed with caution.
> 
> A special thanks to Elisa for making me write this. It’s not *really* in her AU although I guess it could be read that way, idk. I wrote it separately, though, but feel free to browse through her AntLord series and tell her I sent you. Her works there are probably the reason I write any AntLord content so please check it out. Her love for these two and her constant ideas and our ramblings and rps and brainstorms bring up so many good good things and I just wanna thank her for giving me porn. <3
> 
> now that that’s outta the way, there is explicit sexual content in here but this fic is rated M for Mommy better not find this in your history. reader discretion advised.
> 
> roll clip!

Quill always figured that it was his father’s gene that made him so damn possessive. His father was Ego, a celestial and probably the actual god of self-worship and, well, ego. Quill figured that was the part of him that made him always want people to admire him and for his lovers to want to be his, even if it was just one night.

The game that he and Scott found themselves playing, this little “mine/yours” game, it wasn’t that much of a game to him. Scott was  _ his.  _ His body belonged underneath him, writhing and knowing that Quill was giving pleasure to what was his. His heart was admittedly Quill’s most treasured possession, and he would guard it with his very life.

The entirety of Scott belonged to  _ him. _

Which was why landing on Earth and finding that #hotforAntman was one of the top 10 trending hashtags on that thing,  _ Twitter  _ or whatever, made his blood  _ boil.  _ He saw countless versions of the same few photos--some with Scott wearing all black, his gaze intense and inviting, his soft lips pulled into the slightest of smiles, his top buttons of his shirt undone, exposing creamy, unmarred neck. His shoulders were squared, his posture comfortable and confident, his chin resting thoughtfully in his hands.

The  _ Ego  _ part of his brain immediately started screeching. Scott wasn’t supposed to look this sinful. Not in a picture where everyone could see. No, this was his. Scott was his. His entire body was hot with the rejection of this photo. He  _ hated  _ it.

The next one was worse because it was in a series. This one featured him in his Ant-man suit, his hair still styled the same, his arms crossed over his chest. The same slight smile pulled at his lips and he winked at the camera. The bright red and stark black of his costume contrasted the pale, simple background, and his eyes positively sparkled in the studio lighting. The rest of the series contained shots of all of the “new Avengers” in their suits as well: Spider-Man, his mask still on but his expression evident through the way his mask’s eyes moved; Stephen Strange, his fingers forming magical shapes in the photo and his eyes piercing the camera with a dangerous stare; Valkyrie, her silvery suit and shiny blue cape dazzling against her golden-brown skin, her sword glinting in the light; and Ant-Man, of course, his suit perfect like his eyes and his smile.

_ Minemineminemine _

He honestly did not want to come home this pissed--he really did try to contain himself. But when he made it to the common room of the Avengers’ private residence to find Scott laughing and leaning into Natasha, he saw red.

Scott, for his part, didn’t note his lover’s anger at first. He jumped off the couch and ran into his arms. Scott’s height was wonderful; he was just short enough that his lips naturally landed on Quill’s neck or his shoulder. He had to lean up just so to reach Quill’s lips, which he did with sparkling joy and excitement.

It calmed Quill some, but not enough.  _ He knows he is mine. _

It wasn’t until Scott happily sighed and tucked himself against Quill, wrapping his arms tightly around him and closing his eyes, that he realized that the taller man’s chest was heaving. He pulled himself back, frowning. “Are you okay?”

Quill shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

He lifted up the cellphone Scott had gifted him, his face darkening like his eyes. “Can I know just what the fuck this is?” he growled.

Scott studied the photos, and then glanced at Quill in complete shock, silence consuming the entire room.

Then comprehension dawned on scott’s face and—was that mischief that sparked in his eyes? Oh that little— 

“I’m… gonna go,” Scott said, and then he ducked under Quill’s arm and ran for his life.

Quill chased after him, naturally. Scott wasn’t going to get away with this at all. Scott took the stairs up one level and then ducked into the elevator, which he took all the way down to the garage level. He was still wearing his jetboots from his trip with the Guardians, and he simply vaulted down the eighty-odd floors and landed where he could simply duck into the garage. Quill was waiting for him there when the door opened. 

Scott swallowed hard. “Daddy,” he muttered, his hands raised in surrender and the most pleading, innocent expression on his face. “Let’s talk about this--” and then he pressed the door close button and the elevator door shut with him inside it. Quill sighed and took the stairs again. Scott was bursting out onto the roof, having run the last three levels to the roof access, just as Quill landed on it.

Scott froze.  _“I’m gonna die,” _he muttered, rambling his thoughts out loud._ “Should I try jumping off? Maybe Iron Man will catch me if I jump off the roof.”_

Quill couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Scott inched toward the helipad, still muttering.  _ “...Or maybe Spider-Man? If I stay up here I’m gonna die.” _

“If you jump, you better make sure you splat yourself. Jumping off is just going to make me upset.”

_ “Oh God, he’s right. If I jump and Iron Man catches me, he’s gonna tear me a new one, right along with Stephen for being a moron and endangering my life--and then Quill is gonna wreck me too and i’m gonna die. Fuck, do I surrender?” _

Quill snorted. “It’s your best option.”

Scott gulped. “Okay but… can we at least talk about this?”

Quill shook his head. “You’re mine. Your body is mine. Your heart is mine.”

“Always,” Scott said tenderly. “But I don’t understand why that makes you mad about Avengers photoshoots.”

_ “Because I don’t want them looking at you like that, _ ” Quill growled. He lunged, and Scott didn’t bother trying to escape.

Quill felt his body shake a little once or twice as he carried him bodily to their suit, dumping him on the bed. “Clothes off,” he said sharply, and Scott jumped to obey. Neither one was surprised to see his hands shake and his cock leak when he was finally naked. “Lean over the bed. Legs apart. Arms folded behind you.”

Scott minutely shook his head. “Daddy,” he whispered, “please, I…”

Quill gripped his chin hard, forcing Scott to meet his eyes. “ _ Now  _ you’re begging?”

“I didn’t think it would be that big a deal.”

“No? You didn’t think the entire world  _ leering at what is mine  _ would make me upset?” Quill grabbed his arm and turned him, pushing him onto the bed and kicking his legs apart. “Why would you not figure that?”

Scott honest to god whimpered. Still, his hands reached for the opposite elbow, his arms effectively folded behind his back, arching it and presenting his sweet, creamy ass for punishment.

Quill nodded, satisfied. “If you let go for any other reason than to stop me, you won’t sit for weeks.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Scott’s voice was hoarse.

“You’ll thank me with each count. You’ll thank me when you come. You’ll thank me by my name.  _ My  _ name. You’d do well to remember who you belong to.” He seemed to say that a lot when he felt his ownership of Scott had been slighted in some way.

Scott sighed, his wanton expression falling off his face. “I haven’t forgotten,” he whispered, and his mood fell. All he’d ever wanted in life was to belong to someone. He never forgot that he was  _ Quill’s _ best friend,  _ Quill’s _ boyfriend. Quill’s  _ possession.  _ It was his most impressive achievement, more than his degrees, his heists, or even becoming an Avenger.

Quill brought his hand down on those pert ass cheeks over and over again until they were bright red and Scott was screaming his thanks, “T-thank you, Quill!” and tears made his face splotchy and red. Then he pulled Scott onto his knees and skullfucked him until he could barely breathe, coming down his throat in hot spurts and with loud grunts.

Scott cleaned him up gently after, licking away every remaining drop of cum and leaving kisses in his wake. He hadn’t let go of his elbows once.

Quill was satisfied and his upset faded, but Scott didn’t move from his place on his knees, and suddenly, Quill was panicking. “Scotty?”

Silence.

_ Fuck. _

He pulled Scott quickly into the shower, letting cool water run over his stinging cheeks, letting it soothe the sensation away. He bathed Scott with the gentlest hands, massaging his back, his shoulders, his neck, laying kisses on every inch of skin as he worked the lather further down, carefully washing his balls, his ass, his legs. 

His inner  _ Ego _ was still preening, and in that moment, he hated it. Still, Scott leaned into his touch, clung to him, pressed against him, and that little piece of him purred with satisfaction.  _ Mine. _

He guided  _ his _ lover out of the shower, drying him gently with the fluffiest towel he could find, and then tucked him into bed, curling around him and holding him close. “You’re so good for me,” he whispered. “You were so good for me, Scotty. You’re perfect. Daddy loves you. I love you,” he crooned over and over. Finally, Scott stirred, and his head pulling back enough to look up at him. “Daddy?” 

“Sugar,” he answered.

“Did you read the article?”

Quill frowned. “No…”

“You should.”

He did. He asked FRIDAY to pull it up on the pad on Scott’s night stand.

_ I told him I had to ask him the question every girl was going to be asking herself once these pictures hit the press. “Oh, boy,” he laughed. “Alright, ask away!” _

_ “Are you single?” I asked him. If I were allowed to have cameras with me during this interview, I’d have a picture of what being in love should look like. _

_ “There are two people I can say are the absolute love of my life. The first is my daughter. She’s honestly the reason I made it through until I got here. Her little face kept me smiling when I was in prison, and being her dad has kept me alive since. Sorry, ladies, i’ve got a girl in my life already and she can’t be replaced.” As if our hearts weren’t shattered enough already, he continued, “And then there’s Quill. My best friend. My partner in crime, although I’m not supposed to say that. My whole world. Nobody has ever made me feel as whole and special and important as Quill does. He’s my everything.” _

_ “A boy in your life then?” _

_ The way he blushed was something you only see in movies. “Being with him is like staring at the sun. I won’t have eyes for anyone else, ever again.” _

Quill couldn’t swallow around the lump in his throat, and his next breath rattled. “Oh, Sugar,” he whispered.

“Sometimes I wonder if you ever remember that you’re mine, too.”

Quill scooted off the bed and onto his knees, taking both of Scott’s hands into his. “I never forget that I’m yours, Scotty. That’s why I--” he tried to explain himself, to make amends for this, and he felt his tongue tying. “I am yours body and soul and I don’t want anybody else to see what I see because they could take you away from me and I  _ can’t--” _

“God, we’re morons.”

“We’ve established that,” Quill said, sniffing a little.

“You’re a bigger moron than I am.”

“Hey!”

“You always tell me that I’m yours when what you mean is that you’re mine.”

Quill didn’t know what to say to that, so he just said, “You’re right.”

“The best part about being yours isn’t that I get to feel good, feel safe with you.”

“Do you still?” Quill whispered, afraid to know the answer.

“Of course.”

“You didn’t use your safeword.”

“I didn’t need to. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I did,” Quill mourned. “I made you feel like having you like this was all that mattered. That was wrong. I know you love me. I don’t know why the idea of other people--it makes me crazy.”

Scott sighed. “You should know that you never have to worry about them. Never, ever. Everyone on earth will look. Some will see a criminal, some will see an Avenger. Some will see that smooth motherfucker you saw in those pictures. You get to see me without all of that. When I peel all of those off, it’s your marks on my skin, your eyes on me, your heart in my hands.”

“‘Cause you’re mine,” Quill muttered. “Is that why you love hickeys so much?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Quill leaned up and nipped his neck, kissing and sucking until he left a perfect red circle right near his collar bone.

Scott smiled, pulling him onto the bed so that he could have proper access. “You’re mine too,” he sighed. And then he pushed himself onto his back, stretching in the sheets luxuriously, smirking at the naked man still on the ground. “Now make it up to me.”

“You’ve got it, Sugar,” Quill answered. He took Scott’s lips with his, tongues moving languidly as their bodies pressed closer and closer together. Scott’s hands moved over his skin and he positively lit up. His vision went too-bright and blurry for just a moment, his eyes burning. He buried his face in Scott’s neck, wrapping himself around him, pulling himself as close to his lover as he possibly could.

“I’m yours, Scotty. Always yours.”

_ I belong here, too.  _ The thought made his eyes water again, and he spent a lot of time just worshipping this beautiful man’s body like he should have when he got home, instead of going off the rails and making him feel like he hadn’t earned Quill’s heart. It had been his long before either of them were even aware.  _ I’m Scott’s.  _ It sounded strange in his mind.  _ I’m Scott’s best friend. I’m Scott’s partner in crime. He was talking about me. I’m his everything. _

_ I’m his. _

Quill’s  _ inner Ego  _ could go die in a black hole. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> heyy thanks for making it this far! be sure to check out the other fic in this series, titled “Mine” and let me know what you think about both of these in the comments.
> 
> See you soon! y’all rock.  
<3Daisy


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